Dancing
by Superis
Summary: It's like one step forward, and two steps back.


_Dancing_.

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Inspired by _Not Meant to Be_, by Theory of a Deadman. All triangles have to come to and end, sometime.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything (except my thoughts).

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One of the Host Club's obligation is dance. Haruhi doesn't consider herself dancing material and Tamaki, of course, finds it one of the simplest things to do in the world. It's music, after all, where could you go wrong with music? To Tamaki, it's moving your body to the rhythm, letting yourself be guided by something words can never express. To Haruhi, it's a bunch of complicated steps and a waste of time.

The entire Host Club had been assembled in the Music Room, casually practicing their dancing. Three hours later, Haruhi still hasn't got the hang of it. Honey-Senpai and Mori-Senpai had been the first to leave, making excuses about 'cake' and 'bedtime.' Next was Kyouya, not bothering to even give an excuse. Finally, Hikaru and Kaoru left (Hikaru was dragged out of the room by Kaoru), telling Tamaki and Haruhi that they would see them tomorrow.

"Don't give up, Haruhi!" Kaoru calls over Hikaru's protests. "It's not as hard as you make it." He shuts the door with a click, muffling Hikaru's whining. They listen for a moment, as it fades into the distance.

Then, Tamaki and Haruhi stand alone in the room, complete silence shrouding their figures. Haruhi glances at Tamaki, letting out a sigh. She has lost almost five hours of study time today, in hopes of learning how to put one foot in front of the other.

"Tamaki-Senpai, we don't have to go through with this..."

"Haruhi! How can you say that? Dance is very important!" Tamaki looks scandalized.

She rolls her eyes and cannot manage to keep the scorn out of her voice. "Is that so?"

Tamaki rolls up his sleeves, tossing aside his jacket. Haruhi watches for a moment, wondering what he is doing. Instead of dancing himself, Tamaki had spent the entire lesson instructing, and helping the customers get their hands in the correct position. He had been floating around like an oversized, glittery butterfly.

He takes her waist suddenly, and her hand. Haruhi feels the color rush to her face and blinks up at him.

"Um, Tamaki-Senpai, what are you doing?"

"Haruhi, how else are you supposed to learn how to dance?" He smiles at her, looking amused and thoroughly excited at the prospect of dancing (with Haruhi). "Now, put your hand on my shoulder - yes, perfect! Don't be nervous, Haruhi, you're with me."

Haruhi can't help but feel that's all the more reason to be nervous. Nevertheless, she squares her shoulders and tries to listen to Tamaki's voice, telling her to step forward and back, and keep her eyes here, and stop "making her upper body feel like a box" and do this and that. After a while, she stops listening to what he's actually saying, and listens to his voice. The sound of it - the feel of it. She can smell some sort of cologne on him, and the faint hint of lavender and vanilla. She can feel the softness of his shirt, and the body beneath it. If she moves her hand, she could even feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

"Haruhi?"

"Eh?"

"Didn't you hear me? I said you're improving!" Tamaki sparkles; you could almost see the enthusiasm rolling off him in waves. "You just need to relax!"

She looks up at him for while, watching those lilac eyes shine with delight. And she wonders why she finds it so easy to dance with him. She had tried with everyone else in the Host Club - but she either stepped on their feet or elbowed them in the ribs. She hadn't forgotten the death glare she got from Kyouya when her elbow collided with his rib cage. His face, however, smoothed out in a matter of seconds when a customer passed by. Still, Haruhi knew what she saw.

She ponders on the situation for a moment, reflecting on her relationship with Tamaki. She considered him a friend at some point, but it felt like.. like something else. Not quite friendship, but something she can't explain. With him, she seems to take one step and then two steps back. They make slow progress on whatever it is, but at least they make progress.

"Haruhi?"

"Mm?"

"What are you thinking about?"

"You."

She replies unconsciously, like a reflex. As soon as she says it, Haruhi regrets it. She doesn't want Tamaki-Senpai to go off on a tangent, saying things that don't make sense (as he does ninety percent of his life). She doesn't know why he reacts like this - it must be a reflex for him too.

He looks down at her, his face a picture of joy. "Really?! Ah, Haruhi, I was just thinking about you, too!"

-

Hikaru leans on the wall outside the Third Music Room's door. He can hear their voices, one excited (Tamaki) and one soporific (Haruhi). He thinks about barging in and .. and..

Doing what, exactly?

"Haruhi?"

"Mm?"

"What are you thinking about?"

"You."

It's like a sharp knife slitting his heart. He stands stunned for a moment, his mouth slightly open. He didn't expect _that_ answer from Haruhi.

"Really?! Ah, Haruhi, I was just thinking about you, too!"

He dithers for a moment, considering flinging open the door and confronting the 'couple.'

About what, though?

Hikaru sighs to himself, his breath coming out in a small, white puff of smoke.

"Maybe we're not meant to be."

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**F**_in_.

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End file.
